Clowns convene in Plymouth

Thursday

Jan 24, 2013 at 12:01 AMJan 24, 2013 at 2:20 AM

Somewhere inside these crazy outfits and personas are people who go to work every day, get annoyed by traffic and have serious conversations about makeup, hair and shoes. Imagine a big-time executive who talks about cash flow and investments climbing into a pair of enormous shoes and a poufy jacket with huge orange buttons and then sliding behind the wheel of his Lexus on his way to America’s Hometown. Just saying that you’re going to a clown convention must be a hoot.

Emily Clark

This is serious funny business.

Somewhere inside these crazy outfits and personas are people who go to work every day, get annoyed by traffic and have serious conversations about makeup, hair and shoes. Imagine a big-time executive who talks about cash flow and investments climbing into a pair of enormous shoes and a poufy jacket with huge orange buttons and then sliding behind the wheel of his Lexus on his way to America’s Hometown. Just saying that you’re going to a clown convention must be a hoot.

“Hi, how are you?”

“Great. I just finalized that report. It’s on your desk. Gotta go, though. I’m heading to the clown convention.”

“Wow, me, too. That is so random!”

Dizzy (Dominic Gionfriddo) got into clowning to entertain his son, Jonathan, who was born with a disability. Jonathan saw all the fun his dad was having and became Speedy the Clown. Then, his siblings, Tyler “TY-TY” Fernandez and Isabelle “Isacutee” Fernandez, climbed into the clown car with them, so to speak.

Rollo the Clown, also known as Northeast Clown Institute Board of Directors member Ernie Pearlstein, started out with a gig at his godson’s birthday party.

“My mother was there and didn’t know who I was,” Rollo said. He liked the undercover nature of the job and became a professional clown, entertaining at work functions and a myriad of parties. An MBTA executive, Pearlstein fooled countless co-workers for decades, and didn’t reveal his secret clown identity until he retired after 23 years. But he’s still clowning around.

“Thirty-three years and I’m still on my roller skates,” he said.

He distinctly remembers his mother’s words when he was entertaining family at a party. She walked up to him and declared, “I know Ernest hired you, but do you know where he is?”

Dean of the Northeast Clown Institute Andrew Matlins, of Maine, transformed into Iggy the Clown after he’d had enough of the blues.

“I divorced and was suffering from depression,” Iggy said. “I was a photographer at the Shrine’s Unit, at a circus taking photos when I saw everyone laughing and smiling at the clowns. I realized I couldn’t remember the last time I smiled.”

Shrine clowns gathered in Plymouth last weekend at the Radisson Hotel on Water Street for the Northeast Clown Institute. What’s a Shrine clown? They’re connected with the Shriners Hospitals for Children, which provide free medical care to young burn patients and those in need of orthopedic care. Iggy described the Shriners as a bunch of Masons who wanted to have a good time but also wanted to support a good cause. They decided to raise money for children and to create a free hospital for burn patients. The result was nothing short of extraordinary.

“Over 100 years and no patient of our hospitals has ever received a bill,” Iggy said. Shriners clowns are professional clowns who are Shriners members that donate any and all money they make clowning to Shriners Hospitals.

“We’re having fun for a good cause,” Iggy added.

Being a good clown takes cleverness and excellent makeup. Rollo acknowledged that his makeup was terrible at first, and it took professional training to get it right.

Edward Dowling, who is also Pea-pa the Clown, serves as NCI’s president, and said the institute is essentially clown school, where prospective and professional clowns can attend classes on presentation, makeup and all things clown to better their art. This year, 189 clown students attended the institute, which is now in its 24th year. The Radisson Hotel hosts these events and donates generously to the cause.